


Holidays in Rhode Island

by LittleRedRoseontheValley (TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns)



Category: High School Story (Visual Novel)
Genre: Christmas, Companions, Family, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns/pseuds/LittleRedRoseontheValley
Summary: Misery loves company. While Edward hosts his friends for a Christmas dinner, Max hides away at Amanda’s bedroom.
Relationships: Max Warren/Main Character (High School Story)
Kudos: 6





	Holidays in Rhode Island

Holidays in Rhode Island always were boring and lonely affairs for Amanda.

It is not as if she was Madam Popularity at her boarding school, but she still had someone to talk to most of the time, while at home, everything was set to serve and admire her brother Edward. Now more than ever, since their family founded a damn school for him to literally rule at his own image.

Tonight, it was the town’s Christmas formal reception, a tradition in which the Rosenbergs received the cream of the crop in the town. Her mother was likely basking on the compliments towards her ballroom decoration, while Edward was likely holding court with the younger generation in the game room, but she was not in the mood for any of that.

As such, one could find Amanda copped up in her room, dressed in what could best be described as pyjamas, a duvet pulled over her thin figure, settled down on her bed and with a book about religious persecution in Early Modern Slovenia pulled out. For all the poor little rich girl spiel she might throw at someone, though, she was quite content with the situation as it was presented.

Alas, her peace dissipates when a figure bursts into the room.

Fumbling with her book, the redhead caught only a glimpse of golden yellow out of the corner of her eye before whoever it was stomped right over to her seat.

That was enough, though. She knew precisely who had decided to interrupt her quiet time. Max had arrived, and he was pissed. His face was a mask of rage, and his hands were shaking, as if he had had too much caffeine that day.

Before Amanda could attempt to offer a polite greeting, he tossed a copy of the Jamestown Herald, their island’s newspaper, down on top of her open book, right on top of a lithography depicting witch burnings.

“Have you seen this?” He demanded, throwing himself into the armchair next to her bed.

“Probably not.” She drily responded while closing the book and removing the clipping. “I came to find out that my subscription to the Herald does not include international shipping, unfortunately.”

“Lucky you.” The football star grumbled, without engaging with her irony. “Look at it now.”

The redhead sighed. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.” He insisted.

Amanda knew better than to argue with him when he was in that kind of temper. Edward and Max did not really get along, nor did their respective sets of parents, but they maintained a cordial, albeit cold and competitive, working relationship up until recently.

She did not have many opportunities to socialize with Max, but she liked him, in some level. She was closer to the Crandall siblings than she was with either the blond man in front of her or his newly-estranged sister, but Brian was caught up with Edward’s megalomania this season and Skye has started to rebel and refuse to come up to their house, and so Max has increasingly become her only age-appropriate company. Besides, he was awfully amusing, and even rather sweet when the mood strikes him. She did not want to antagonize him so.

Sighing once more, Amanda twisted the paper toward her to get a better look at its front page. It was a glowing cover story about her brother, as one could have predicted. The Estate likely made sure that it would get published. Why anyone would bother reading it when it was clear as day that it was little but a mouthpiece for her family, she did not know.

Why would it be any different? They owned the newspaper, as they did a radio transmitter in Newport and a TV station in Providence. All to maintain control over their employees, she is sure.

“Child Prodigy: How Edward Rosenberg is Fighting For Public Education in the State of Rhode Island”, it read, emblazoned the top of the newspaper, and underneath it was an enormous photograph of her stupid brother.

“Oh, for the love of God.” Amanda bemoaned weakly.

“You got that right.” Max sneered. “The Child Prodigy is at it again.”

“Max…”

“What?” The boy barked.

“Can’t you just…” She trailed off. What exactly she hoped he would do was beyond even herself.

The blond shook his head emphatically. “No, I can’t.”

His words sounded final. After that, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared moodily into the nearby fire. The light of it danced in his blue eyes.

She watched for a minute or so, with a dozen different queries jostling for lead at the tip of her tongue. None of them seemed likely to not set Max off, though, so she simply swallowed each one, flipped the paper over so that she would no longer have to see Edward’s arrogant smile, and returned to her leisure reading.

“I just don’t get it.” Max said loudly, after a few minutes passed.

Amanda looked up from her thick volume to see if he looked more friendly. He did not.

“Don’t get what?” The redhead wanted to know.

“How you can stand all this!” Before she could ask for clarification, he went on: “It makes me sick. He just goes on and on about how happy he is that his parents support him on his noble pursuits, and how proud they are be of him, and how sickly _sweet_ his life is. I mean, they are your parents, too! Why do they supposedly only care about him?”

She reached out a tentative hand and placed it on his upper arm. When he did not shake it off, she swallowed and said, “Max, they kind of do care only for him.”

“Well, they should care for you, instead.” Max’s ears burned a vibrant red as he stared at her.

Amanda squirmed in her poster bed. In some ways, he was right. Her parents, and the whole town, was much more invested in Edward’s achievements and successes than whatever was going on with her, but that was not the point. Mia or even Skye were as much neglected children as she was, if not more, and yet Max did not seem to care about either of them.

It was not about Amanda being neglected, and honestly, it did not seem much about jealousy over Edward. It was something else.

In light of that conclusion, she shrugged. “He is my brother.”

“So?” His dirty blond eyebrow shot up.

That question had no answer. She had long given up trying to exist outside of Edward’s shadow.

Max ran an agitated hand through his hair, then said in a defeated sort of voice said, “I just thought…I don’t know, that out of everyone, you would understand.”

At the risk of sounding like one of Edward’s many scratched CDs when he tried to play them back, the redhead kept her mouth shut instead of asking what it was she were supposed to understand. She often suspected, and Skye often agreed, that sometimes the boys in their lives did not need someone to talk to, but rather they needed someone to talk at. Maybe this was one of those times for Max.

Sure enough, he soon continued with her prompting. “When you have a family like…Like we have, it’s impossible to live up to them. You can’t do anything to break the mould. Everyone expects great things of you, because they all did great things, but then no one cares when you do manage something, because it’s just your obligation, what was expected. Just my parents would be bad enough, but you…”

“I’ve got Edward Rosenberg.” She concludes.

“Right.” He said miserably.

He looked so sad, staring down into his lap like that. Amanda briefly wonders if anyone was able to witness the great Max Warren like that, _vulnerable_. Did he have these conversations with Kara? With Mia? Or it was just her? Did he see her as a fellow in suffering, or as an actual friend?

As her grandmother would soon remind her, there is always a universe inside each person’s heart, a universe we could only have tiny glimpses of. She was amazed with whatever much she could see from his.

“Edward and I…It’s different. I am gone nine months of the year, after all.” She said, barely a whisper of a voice. “It doesn’t affect me as much.”

“So, the glory-seeking doesn’t bother you at all?” The boy asks, genuinely intrigued with her response.

She shook her head, red tresses going from left to right in synch. “No, it bothers me. It would be nice if Edward could just lighten up and stop being a dick. I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut, though.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I am not the heir to the throne, the one destined to grand things, to a life of accomplishments. I am only some daddy’s little princess. My destiny is either a suitable marriage or an apartment in Paris.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“It hurts.” She confessed. “But would you recommend for me to be on your shoes? Do you like trying to fill a pair of shoes that would never be filled? With some neighbourhood twerp just making them bigger and bigger?”

“Of course not.” Max said with a snort.

“There you have it.” Amanda motioned with her hands. “It’s not good, but it’s my lot in life and I learned to appreciate it.”

Silence befell them while they mulled over what has been said.

“Max, can I ask you something?” Amanda breaks the quiet suddenly.

He grunted.

“Would you hate me as much as Edward if it was my name on the front page of that newspaper?” She questioned.

The muscular teen measured her with his blue eyes. “What are you on about?”

“If it was me as student representative of Berry High instead of Edward…”

Max cut her off. “Are you trying to topple him?”

“Most certainly _not_.” If there was one thing that Amanda did not want for her impeding high school career, it was to be made responsible over the running of the school. Too much stress. “But if, for some circumstance, I did become part of the School Council and my father kept running stories on the paper about how wonderful I was, would you hate me, too?”

To her great surprise, Max’s answer was an immediate, “No.”

Something deep within her unclenched. It was nice to have a friend that would not be jealous of her, nor would use her to get ahead. It was not something she could say about most of the girls at her school, much less Mia or Kara, and even if she rather trusted Skye, they never had this talk before. The relief was so great that her head spun.

When Amanda spoke again, her voice was a little hoarse. “Really?”

“Of course.” Max said. “Why would that make me hate you?”

“It made you hate Edward.” The redhead offered.

He shook his head in denial. “You’re different.”

“How so?” She asked, laughing.

Max did not answer at once. In fact, he looked a little uncomfortable. Turning his face back toward the fire, he shifted around in his seat. Then, still refusing to look at her, he said, “You just are.”

A slow smile spread across her face. Edward was still a moron; Max was still upset; and Amanda was still lonely. She could still write a book on being a poor little rich girl, but knowing that the boy across from her did not hate her cheered her up considerably all the same.

She shut her Slovenian history book with a loud snap that caused the blond teen to jump. He twisted to glower at her, but she simply smirked in return.

“I find that religious persecution is too much of a heavy subject for tonight.” She said. “How about I kick your ass in Halo, bleached Mickey Mouse?”

“You’re so on, devil spawn.”

He sped off toward the TV opposite to the bed in sights to set up the game without a second glance. She settled back in her seat to wait.

Max and Amanda are not really friends. They are on a situational friendship at best right now, united by the shared misery Edward Rosenberg causes them. However, while they blow alien brains on an overly violent videogame, she cannot help herself but to think that she would like to be actual friends with someone like Max someday.

Tonight, holidays in Rhode Island still sucks, but in the future, they might not be as lonely as they are right now.


End file.
